


The Same Moonlight

by TK_DuVeraun



Series: Splintered Legacies [3]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Adventure & Romance, BIG LOVE - Freeform, Communication, Drama, Echani headcanons, F/M, Grief, Mandalorian headcanons, Original Characters - Freeform, Original Plot, working through issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-06-21 23:32:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15568782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TK_DuVeraun/pseuds/TK_DuVeraun
Summary: Cakara’s life has been a combination of bad luck and bad choices. She’s on her second fresh start, joining the Mandalorian Clan Meshurok, but maybe this one isn’t as fresh as she thought it would be.---This is the same universe asResilienceandFallout.





	1. Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> Much has been written about Mandalorians with varying levels of legitimacy over the years. However, canon is dictated by our Lord and Master Disney and is extremely thin on the ground when it comes to Mandalorians. In this story, they are portrayed as depicted in the game (SW:TOR) and how I first learned of them.
> 
> I don't know why, but people get really No True Scotsman about Mandalorians. If that is you, you probably won't like this.
> 
> While it is in the same Universe as [Resilience](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14184819) and [Fallout](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14339508), the plot and major characters are not related to those works.

Meshurok’s _yaim_ is in the middle of a thick forest. It’s not too different from Tiyaar’s. The wood making up the temporary defenses is less green and the twisting, creeping ivy is further up the ramshackle walls, but it’s not a complex with roots deep in the ground. The camp guards wear their armor as bright and polished as any other Mandalorian’s, though Meshurok’s grey gemstone sigil is more prominent than most clan symbols.

Cakara’s sunset orange armor doesn’t have Tiyaar’s mark. They had taken her in when she needed it, but she’d never felt like family. And she never would as long as people flinched at the first sight of her. She removes her helmet as Meshurok’s guards check her credentials, but neither one reacts nor comments. A green laser flashes over her armor, scanning for _beskar_ and then the gate opens and she’s instructed to speak to the _alor._

Eyes follow Cakara as she walks through the camp, but the expressions show only mild curiosity and the stares linger more on her weapons than her face. The command tent is impossible to miss, with its two meter tall standards. The grey gemstone is flanked by two smaller standards depicting the silhouette of some animal wearing a crown. It’s completely foreign to Cakara, but it’s no stranger than most symbols, so she doesn’t waste time thinking about it before nodding to the sentinel that lets her enter the tent.

The Hound of Meshurok is a tall, human woman with black hair so thick it fights against the braids keeping it in place, despite her undercut. Her expression is carefully neutral as she looks Cakara up and down. The muscles in her face twitch just the slightest bit, just the smallest movements that only an echani would catch, but aside from signifying that she has _some_ thoughts, they don’t tell Cakara anything.

Cakara gives her new _alor_ a shallow bow. “I’m Cakara. Wat Tiyaar said you’d be expecting me.”

“I was. Sit,” Hound says. Once Cakara is seated, she sits as well, her face still betraying nothing. “He said you were interested in joining our melee corps.”

“There was some tension because of my blood, as well,” Cakara says. Under her black tattoos, her skin is whiter than any sun-bleached bone. Even if the Hound is unfamiliar with echani bone structure and faces, there’s no other subhuman race with white irises like Cakara’s.

“Tiyaar are a hard lot. Good at what they do. Traditional,” Hound says. Her tone is slightly clipped, but not enough to suggest anything other than brusque professionalism.

“They took me in when I needed it. That’s what matters.”

Hound nods at her. “Good. I’ll tell you right now, if you’re looking for glory and constant engagements, you’re in the wrong place. We fight and we do it well, but we’re conservative with what jobs we take and our profits go to the children, not necessarily the newest weapons and the fastest ships.”

“I’m not here for glory. I’m here for…” Cakara hesitates, but finally says, “ _aliit._ ”

That puts a smile on Hound’s face, though it’s quickly wiped away. “That’s what I like to hear. I don’t tell newcomers what I’m going to say next, but with your training, you’d notice and it’s best to avoid any unpleasantness.”

It’s only her perfect muscle control that keeps Cakara from reacting. She doesn’t know which of the many things Cakara’s been trained in Hound is referring to. Nor does she have any idea what kind of unpleasantness the clan leader is imagining. She allows herself a single, quick nod.

“We don’t break up families for having gifts. The ideal warrior is one using all of their best abilities. If we don’t have a teacher for whatever they’re good at, we’ll find one. Even if someone has to leave for training, Meshurok will always be their home,” Hound says.

Cakara counts the steady, perfect beats of her heart as she mulls over those statements. There’s some specific talent Hound is referencing. One Cakara would recognize on sight. One she doesn’t want to talk about directly. Cakara fights off the urge to narrow her eyes in thought and leaves her face unchanged as her brain makes suggestions and tosses them aside. Despite her best efforts, an involuntary gasp escapes Cakara when the pieces fall into place. She whispers the word, barely giving it the breath for any sound. “Forcers?”

“No child will be ripped from their family for having a gift,” Hound says.

Cakara feels cold inside her armor, but also clammy and too warm all at once. More than half of her training in her old life had been to counter Thryssian sorcerers. They were evil, corrupted and couldn’t be trusted. She forces her eyes closed and shoves the old thoughts aside. _Cin’vhetin._ When she opens them again, Cakara meets Hound’s eyes and nods. “I understand.”

“The details aren’t something we discuss openly, even here, but rest assured, Mandalore already knows. That said, should the Empire take exception to our clan, we’re on our own. That’s what’s best for our people. Cerar and D’narr could have a place for you if that’s a problem.”

Wat had offered Cerar and D’narr to her, too. The four clans are close and often send warriors where they fit best. Everyone speaks highly of Meshurok, but the clan has no reputation… by design, clearly. They don’t want word getting back to the Empire that they’re ‘harboring’ Forcers. If the Empire finds out, summary execution is on the docket and Mandalore won’t intervene. It’s a dangerous position, but it could be worth it to find a family that accepts her for what she is and _only_ what she is.

“I’d like to make a home here,” Cakara finally says.

“Excellent. You’ll be bunking with Zali for now. She’ll get you sorted and settled in. If you need more privacy after that, we can discuss it and work something out. I don’t anticipate any interpersonal issues, but should one arise, you are to bring it to my attention immediately so that it can be resolved before a true problem can arise. Arbitration doesn’t favor longevity, so do not hesitate to speak up.”

Meshurok is on the small side for a Mandalorian clan, but even so… “Your attention, personally?”

Hound grins. “Zali will tell you who can speak for the clan. She should be waiting for you outside.”

Cakara nods at the dismissal and stands. Just before she can step out, Hound stops her with a few words.

“One last thing. Welcome home, Cakara.”

“Thank you, _alor._ ”

\---

The mess tent is _loud._ Despite there being empty tables scattered around, the warriors are crowded onto the tables closest to the firepit in the center. The main ruckus seems focused on a red-haired human man that’s gesturing wildly as he tells a story. He has a long, intricate braid just as fancy as Hound’s pulled over his shoulder. Even from the distance, Cakara could easily read his lips and ‘listen’ to the story, but she doesn’t because she’s _terrified._ She has to imagine that no one else can see what she does, but they’re warriors, surely they should be able to recognize an apex predator.

It’s not that his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, because it does, there are even crinkles in the skin around his eyes that prove he smiles a lot. No, it’s the way he sits and how perfectly he moves his arms. Non-Echani shouldn’t have that kind of muscle control, especially not people in full _beskar_ with its limited joints and lagging pneumatics. In order to compensate for those factors, the man would need _years_ of training. Cakara’s been a Mandalorian for three years and she only has base proficiency at what this man does so carelessly.

Something of her fear must make it past her control over her expression because Zali puts a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you okay? Do you want to go back to the bunk?”

Cakara can’t take her eyes off the danger, so she doesn’t look at Zali when she speaks. Each word is deliberate and torn from her chest because she’s sure he can hear her, even from the distance, even over the crowd. “That man is-”

“Gorgeous, right?” Zali gives a wistful sigh. “Wherever _alor_ got him, I want one.”

She chokes and feels weak in the knees even though she’s sitting. “Are you out of your mind? He could tear you apart with his bare hands.”

“Fox would never. He and Morathis, that’s the chiss on his left, they’re _alor_ ’s partners. They wouldn’t hurt anyone in the clan. You’re fine. Fox is the best person to go to with problems. _Alor_ tries to make it a lesson and ensure we learn from our mistakes, blah blah, but Fox’ll just fix things.”

Zali sounds so confident that Cakara glances at her. “He’s a monster.”

“Well, yes, you met Hound, didn’t you? They’ve gotta be monsters to keep up with her.”

“Are you really not worried?” Cakara ask as she turns back to watch Fox.

Zali shrugs next to her and loudly picks up her plate. “Of course not. He pulled me outta the rubble on Balmorra and brings me food when I’m sick and stuff. Doesn’t matter that I’m not officially adopted, he’s basically my dad now.”

Cakara lets a frown sit on her face. It’s slightly reassuring that he’s apparently affectionate under his terrifying strength, but that’s almost completely negated by the clear devotion on everyone’s faces. _Power comes in many forms…_ “I suppose I just have to trust you.”


	2. Affectation

Fox pulls Cakara aside that night, but it’s such a surprise and so unexpected that Cakara’s eyes go wide and she feels her muscles pull under her skin, betraying her fear.

“I’m sorry, Cakara. I didn’t mean to frighten you. And yes, I realize this is more frightening, but needs must.” Fox takes care to meet her eyes and then he just _changes._ The curve of his back, the tension in his jaw, the angle of his shoulders, all of it shifts just a little, just enough that he goes from _monster_ to _human._

“You’re doing it on purpose?” Cakara asks. She can hardly believe her eyes, but there it is. She suppresses a shiver.

“As a child, I was, let’s say, imprisoned with a Silver Sister. She taught me how to look intimidating. Humans can’t really notice it on a conscious level like you, but it puts them on edge, makes them wary.” He smiles and the quirk of his eyebrows is sheepish.

“That you’re _able_ to affect it is nearly as bad,” Cakara says. “I was raised and trained for the Sisters and I still have difficulty with it out of armor.”

Fox curls in the fingers on his left hand and then twists his arm clockwise from the elbow. It’s an Echani gesture that means _Forcer._ “I learned the signs recently. The Sister was…” His eyebrows lower and his face seems lost in shadow. “Maimed is too kind of a term.”

“That’s horrible.” Cakara shakes her head. “I left, but still, no one deserves that.”

“Hopefully, you’ll be able to relax now. I doubt you expected to see an Echani technique here, of all places,” Fox says.

“That did make it much worse. I could only assume that you were…”

“A monster?”

“More powerful than anyone else I’ve encountered.”

“I won’t pretend I’m not strong, but I’m not a barely contained explosive charge.” He reaches out and touches the outside of her left shoulder with a flat palm. It’s an acknowledgement of her status as an active warrior, in addition to being a simple gesture of the slightest intimacy.

“I appreciate you explaining it, but it may take time for it to really sink in.”

Fox throws back his head in a laugh. “Don’t worry about it. As long as you don’t try to eliminate the threat, it’s fine. And welcome home.”

Such a small thing. Two little words. She hasn’t even been in Meshurok a full day and this is already the fifth time someone has said that to her. She doesn’t know what to do with it. The last time someone said that to her, it was her parents’ servants back on Eshan. She wants to tear up and splash her emotions everywhere, but three years in the Clans isn’t enough to break twenty of habit. Cakara just nods and then heads back to the bunk she shares with Zali.

\---

Meshurok’s armory is cramped with racks and worktables, all meticulously kept in order. Rows and rows of blasters and energy packs and rifles organized by use line three of the walls. The last wall contains a glass case in the position of honor. It’s full of highly polished, mounted trophies. On the bottom shelf is a perfectly preserved Sliver of the Moon. Cakara kneels in front of it, her armored knees grinding against the floor, but she can’t make out the family crest on the hilt under the leather binding on the grip.

“One of yours, isn’t it?”

Cakara looks over her shoulder at the man who spoke. It's Skauris, the other apprentice armstech beside Zali. “Once upon a time. I was trying to see what family it belonged to.”

“Would you recognize it?”

Cakara gets to her feet and shrugs. “If they were from Eshan. They’re what we have instead of medals of honor. Ostensibly anyone can earn one, but the reality is they only go to the Matriarchs and Silver Sisters.”

“Sounds like the Ascendancy. I’m not sorry I missed it.” Skauris’ armor is red and black, rather muted compared to most of Clan Meshurok.

“How long have you been here?” Cakara asks. She steps up to his worktable to examine his project. It looks like a hilt without a blade.

“Since I was a baby. My parents hired Hound to ‘get rid’ of me. Well she did.” He laughs. “Zali abandon you?”

“Scout duty. I was supposed to be training with the melee corps, but Aky knocked me on my ass and said not to come back until Vee fixed me up.” Cakara fights to keep the frown off of her face, but it’s difficult. She’s never been so outclassed before. No one had laughed, but shame still burns in her chest even if it doesn’t show on her face.

“Ah, well, don’t take it personally. She cheats,” Skauris says, wiggling his fingers. “Gets it from her dad.”

“I thought there was some resemblance. I didn’t want to say anything. I know bloodlines are kind of an issue in a lot of clans.”

Skauris nods. “Everyone with the really fancy braids is one of theirs, though obviously some are adopted. It’s a nice way to keep track. Took them years to realize they were doing it, too.”

Cakara chuckles, but it morphs into a sigh. She plants her elbows on the table. “Even still, though, I was trained to counter Forcers.”

“Not while wearing that, you weren’t,” Skauris says. “And I doubt you’ll keep it.”

For a moment, Cakara is too shocked to say anything.

“Whoa, not like that. I mean, it’s not just that you need a proper weapon. Vee’s gonna have you get your armor modded so all of that training of yours doesn’t go to waste.” Skauris leans over the object and adjusts it with a tiny, sparking tool.

“I was trained Echani. A few mods aren’t going to help.”

Skauris puts his tools down and stares at her for a moment before sighing. He turns them off and leans against the table. “Pretend you don’t know this, but so was he.”

Cakara blinks at him and straightens up. She never imagined _another_ echani in the Clans. _Though, he is a man, so I can see why he would leave._ She gestures to her own face. “It’s not like he can hide it.”

“He never takes off his helmet, even here. We all know, but…” He turns his hands palms up and shrugs as he trails off.

“I guess I can understand that. I hated them enough to leave, too. But _they_ are the problem. Not me,” Cakara says. She tugs on her short, dyed hair, then blinks and glances back at the trophy case. “Wait, is that _his_ Sliver?”

“Like, I said, don’t mention it,” Skauris says. His voice is hard and carries a clear tone of dismissal that sticks out given how friendly he’d sounded up to that point.

Cakara metaphorically bites her tongue and just nods at him before leaving.


	3. Shells

Vee is late returning from whatever job he’s on. No one gives Cakara any details and she doesn’t ask. She knows the _alor_ adopted him and that he’s echani by blood and a melee specialist, but nothing else. Well, she assumes he has long white hair kept back in fancy plaits like the rest of his adopted family, but it’s unlikely a holo will ever exist of it.

Since she has no idea when he’ll return, she eventually goes to the armorsmith herself. Nouj takes one look at her armor and tuts and mutters under his breath.

“This is completely unsuitable for you. What was Tiyaar thinking? Get that off. All of it.”

“I was in a state when I got there. It’s not really their fault.” Cakara says. Her gauntlets are scooped up the second she sets them on the rack, so once she gets the cuirass off she just holds it out to the old zabrak. “And I didn’t know anything about armor. Even now all I really know is basic maintenance.”

“At least you’re telling the truth about that. You have no idea how many kids come in here and try to tell me they’ve been doing proper upkeep. As if I can’t tell. Ridiculous. Hound is too soft on them,” Nouj mutters as he looks over the pieces. Despite his words, his expression is soft and there’s a hint of a smile on his lips every few seconds that anyone but an echani would miss.

Cakara sets her boots on the worktable and then peels off her socks. She slips them into the pocket of her underarmor and stands perfectly still.

When Nouj finally turns to her, he blinks owlishly. “You’re still naked.”

Despite being nothing even in the same sector as naked, Cakara only shrugs. “I assumed you were going to have to measure me.”

“You’d think that was obvious, but no, everyone else I get in here immediately stuffs themselves into a temporary set like a terrified shaclaw.” He pulls out a small laser scanner and slowly sweeps it down his arm a few times. “Alright, stretch out.”

Cakara grabs the hem of her thick shirt and lifts it a few times.

“No, leave it, this’ll pierce leatheris and cloth, just not _beskar._ Arms a little higher. You’re not over-extending are you? Vee did that the first time. Armor was wrong for weeks before Fox dragged him in here by the ear.” Nouj checks the readout on his the scanner and makes notes in a datapad with a screen cracked from constant taps from _beskar_ gauntlets.

“Has Vee been here long?” Cakara asks.

“Hmm, ten years? Something like that. He’s a good kid. Hound is grooming him to take over,” Nouj says. “Her _buir_ ’s a good one, too. Most _alor’e_ just keep going until they kick it. Meshurok keeps its leader ‘bout the same age as the average. I like it. I’d like it a lot more if Hound could find me a karking apprentice, or even an assistant, but _no,_ she just keeps finding kids for Oliar.”

“There’s more than Skauris and Zali?” Cakara shifts back through her memories, but she’s been introduced to so many people she can’t be entirely sure she’s not forgetting anyone.

“We had two more, Remy and Lillin, but they moved to D’narr a few years back. Just one. Is that too much to ask?”

“In Tiyaar-”

“I don’t want anyone who left you in _that_ disaster, _ad._ I want someone _good_ at what they do.”

Cakara laughs. “Well, I’ll let you know if I find anyone.”

“If you hang out with other clans, you will. No proper armorer lets Vee walk by without giving their two chits, as if I’m not a professional. But he doesn’t care for other clans. Can’t blame him. Especially after Nauur.”

The obvious question _burns_ in Cakara’s mouth, but she leaves it there. She’s learned more about Vee in the last two minutes than in her first two weeks combined and none of it is her business anyway. “I’ll try to be seen. That’s usually the plan.”

“Good girl. Alright. I’m done with you. Get some temporary pieces from the racks over there. Don’t take any jobs until it’s done. I’m not going to be able to mod this, so I’ll send it back to Tiyaar with a scathing note about putting someone with your body in that disaster.”

\---

Cakara nearly cries when she puts her new armor on the first time. It’s nothing like the cloth lies they pass off as armor on Eshan, but it’s… It’s like coming home. She dances through the Silver Sisters’ practice kata with no hesitation and only slight changes. After coming out of the last form she tackles Nouj in a hug.

The armorsmith chuckles and pats her on the back. “I’m glad you like it. Don’t be like Vee. Come see me immediately if anything off.”

“Yes, absolutely, thank you, bye!” Cakara says in a single breath. She snatches up the helmet and sprints out of the armory and through the camp. Though a few of her new _vod_ laugh and call out joking admonishments, no one minds. She’s hardly the first warrior to run by.

Halfway through the camp, Cakara changes her mind and midstep changes her trajectory towards the command tent where she’ll hopefully find Aky for a rematch. She laughs delightedly. That kind of momentum shift would have been impossible in her old armor and she hears more than one surprised exclamation as she makes the turn. She slows to a jog as she approaches, though her control is good enough she wouldn’t crash into a guest even if they were trying. She’s brought to a complete halt when she sees the expression on Hound’s face.

Hound looks _gutted._ Her skin is frighteningly pale and her mouth quivers in that way human mouths move when they’re about to cry. Her normally sharp and imposing posture is wilted like an orchid left in direct sunlight. She has one hand on the arm of an unfamiliar warrior and her other is stroking their helmet as if it’s their face. Their heads are bent together and Hound’s face is turned too far for Cakara to really read her lips.

The warrior eventually pats Hound’s upper arm and pulls away to straighten up. He nods sharply in response to some question and then tenderly touches the back of Hound’s elbow in a familiar move that makes Cakara gasp.

The warrior has to be Vee. That movement, the touch with just his middle and ring fingers, signals strong familial affection and respect. It’s used as an assurance, a silent ‘I’ll be alright.’ Now that she’s not focused on the clan leader, Vee’s identity is unmistakable. His armor is the same combination of wide joints, scaling and interconnected plates that hers is.

While she’s still staring, he turns his head. The moment he spots her is clear in the aborted nod of acknowledgement in her direction. Cakara fights back a wince and steps towards them.

“There’s no rush, Vee. She’s been here weeks; it can wait another few days,” Hound says. She hasn’t released her hold on his right arm.

“It’s fine, _buir._ I’d rather have the distraction, regardless,” Vee says. He touches her elbow again and then pulls out of her grasp completely. He tilts his head at Cakara in acknowledgement. “You must be Cakara. I’m Vee.”

“Hello. Welcome back.” The words are ash in Cakara’s mouth, but she’s forced herself to say nicer things to worse people.

Vee turns his head to signal that he’s glancing at Hound, even though he could easily just look behind his T-visor. When he looks back at Cakara, he says, “The original message said you’d need new armor, but I see you’ve already taken care of that.”

“I just got it today. A minute ago, really.”

“I’ll have to see Nouj so he can complain at me later, then. How’s the fit?”

Cakara’s sorely tempted to tap the inside of his left ankle with the top of her right foot, the silent ‘Don’t question a professional,’ but she knows he must hate Echani as much as she does. Even if he used a gesture with Hound, he may not be receptive to them himself, so after hesitating for too long, Cakara says, “It’s fine.”

Vee nods at her and then turns to Hound. He touches her elbow a _third_ time. “I’ll see you tonight, _buir._ I don’t want Rathi hunting me down like last time.”

Hound says something in a language Cakara doesn’t recognize and Vee bows his head in acquiescence before turning back to Cakara.

“Right then. Let’s go,” Vee says.


	4. Slivers

Vee leads her through the camp, giving only waves in response to called greetings. 

Cakara tries not to be too obvious with her staring, but she does catch him touch the back of Aky’s elbow as they walk past. For her part, Aky claps him on the chest with an open hand that probably carries no meaning. Cakara chides herself for overthinking everything, but Vee is such a curiosity and something terrible happened to him and Cakara’s not used to not knowing.

Eventually, they make it to the armory. Vee throws the doors open dramatically and then crosses his arms over his chest as he looks the place over.

“Oy, Vee, welcome home, you tosser,” Skauris calls from his worktable.

“Go kriff yourself, Skauris,” Vee returns good-naturedly.

Skauris makes a rude hand gesture before returning to his work.

Vee clears his throat. “Anyway, we’ll just grab a handful of vibroswords and see what suits.” He goes to the racks of melee weapons. He picks several up, one at a time, testing the balance and looking down the physical blade before handing ones that meet his criteria for Cakara to hold. Though it’s difficult to tell with his helmet, Vee definitely lets his gaze linger on the Sliver of the Moon in the trophy case. When he’s ready to go, he tilts his head towards the door and simply starts walking.

The training grounds are broken up into several sections. The children are practicing with rifles in one. Another has most of the clan’s snipers clumsily fighting off melee attacks as they try to gain ground. Vee takes Cakara to an empty section with a thick layer of heavy sand covering the ground. 

Cakara tests how much her feet sink into the sand with the new armor. She experimentally goes through the first few steps of Moonlight’s Shadow. When she finishes the first set, she notices Vee staring at her with a vibrosword held out. She keeps her face blank as she accepts the weapon. 

She gives it a few swings and has to put effort into keeping her heartrate even. Vee is as good at advertised. It feels like an extension of her arm and it’s so stupid. It’s such a little thing. The sword she already had worked fine, but this feels  _ natural _ and  _ right _ in a way that one never did. She wants to hug Vee the way she did Nouj, but one look at the other echani’s posture tells her what hundreds of words from the rest of the clan already did: he’s not easy to get close to.

“It’s a lot better than what I was using,” Cakara says, her tone more even than her expression, for once.

“I should hope so. That’s a third-hand piece of rodian trash Tiyaar gave you. I’m going to send it back to them with a strongly worded message,” Vee says.

It’s so similar to Nouj’s complain that Cakara chuckles. “Sorry, Nouj said the same thing about the armor I was in.”

“I don’t think they meant to give you bad gear. Tiyaar’s melee fighters are notoriously slipshod and they couldn’t have known how to armor you properly,” Vee says. His posture shifts, but there’s no meaning in the new stance. He’s probably picked up idle movements to not stand out.

“I know. They were good to me. I just didn’t work out,” Cakara replies. It feels a little fake, with as many times as she’s said it, even though she  _ does _ believe it.

“Good. Alright. Come at me,” Vee says.

A small part of Cakara is disappointed that he didn’t just make the motion for it, but she understands, she does. There had been a time, when she was younger, when she nearly threw it all away. She’d planned to run away and never touch a sword again, never make another meaningful gesture. With effort, she pushes the memories away before they pull her into a spiral of regrets. Cakara leaps at Vee to force the issue with her mind.

Vee blocks easily and counters with a sharp thrust that doesn’t fit any of the practice routines Cakara knows. Undoubtedly, it’s intentional. They trade a few blows and while Vee has a clear advantage from her muddled and nearly useless training from the last three years, it isn’t the solid trouncing she got from Aky.

After jumping back, Vee considers her for a few moments. He eventually gestures to the table where he laid the other swords. “Try the middle one.”

The vibrosword feels no different from the first one, at least, until she turns it on. Cakara doesn’t know enough about energy weapons to know the  _ how _ or the  _ why _ , but the plasma on the second one just… It hums at a resonance that feels right. She has no idea how Vee picked the swords out of all of the racks. Maybe he grabbed the ones that suited him best? Echani aren’t as dimorphic as humans, so it would make sense that the weapons would translate well.

Cakara does bite her tongue to keep herself from asking any of the hundreds of questions that are rattling around in her head. Silently, she slips into the ready form that he can’t  _ not _ recognize and waits for his signal.

He doesn’t give one. Instead, he lunges straight for her and Cakara has to dash out of the way. He doesn’t wait for for a riposte, he keeps pressing his advantage. Though Cakara can dodge or block all of his strikes, it’s clear that that’s only because he’s letting her. He’s not testing the weapon anymore, he’s testing her.

Though she puts all of her attention and effort into fighting him off, she’s woefully out of practice in practical melee combat of this caliber. As much as Cakara is disappointed by her lack of ability, her blood is on fire. She feels like she’s living the beginning of Moonlight’s Shadow, facing her first real test of skill and failing, but knowing that he’ll teach her once this is over. She’ll lose today, but Vee won’t be satisfied until she’s matching him blow for blow.

When he finally backs off, Cakara is panting and exhilarated. She turns to share the joy bubbling in her chest, but Vee’s own exhaustion has merely left him showing the grief he shared with Hound. His shoulders are limp and his stance is too wide and too stiff. 

After a moment of silent hesitation, Cakara touches the outside of his left shoulder with an open palm and looks into his T-visor, as if she can meet his eyes.

Vee says nothing, but neither does he brush away her hand. When she removes it, he nods to her once, sharply. “Rest tomorrow. We’ll properly retrain you the day after.”

\---

“That armor suits you,” Zali says at lunch the next day.

“Thanks. I finally feel like I’m  _ me _ again. And the vibrosword Vee picked for me… I didn’t realize a weapon could suit a person so well.” Cakara touches the hilt of her sword before turning back to her plate. Meshurok’s food is better than Tiyaar’s was, probably because they move around less.

“He’s a master of using weapons and finding out what’s best for someone, but he can’t make them when he tries. And he keeps trying. Absolutely kriffing hilarious. I don’t think he’s ever failed at anything else in his life. It’s a beautiful thing.” Zali chuckles.

“I think I would pay to see that. Especially after he trounced me yesterday.”

“He does that,” Zali says with a grin. “What do you think of him?”

Cakara pushes her food around the thin, bronzium plate for a moment while she collects her thoughts. “I’m not sure. He’s grieving something terrible and everything else is just a facade covering it.”

“Things with Nauur ended badly.  _ Really _ badly.  _ Alor _ was fuming or a week and almost cut ties with Clan D’naar,” Zali says between bites of her meat pie.

Cakara shakes her head. “It’s definitely not that. At the very,  _ very _ least, not only that. And whatever it was, it upset Hound, too. I thought someone died, but I asked around and everyone’s accounted for.”

Zali makes an uncomfortable sound and then sighs. “Yeah, you’re probably on the right track. I’ve got some idea of what it might be, but…”

“But he’s a private person. It’s fine; I know. I saw Fox this morning and he had an edge of it on him, too. It’s strange. I’m not used to… worrying about other people like this.”

Zali chuckles, though it’s muted by the severity of the conversation. “I think that means you’re finally home.”

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Vee is good at hiding his grief, but he’s not used to another echani watching him. Even if his martial abilities have only improved, he hasn’t put the time into keeping up with masking his emotions. Cakara thinks it’s less out of laziness or that fact he can hide most of it with his armor and more because the  _ alor _ and her family sincerely love him and want to know what he’s feeling.

After age eight, Cakara only showed her parents her true feelings twice and their responses are why she left Eshan and Echani culture behind. It isn’t just what they said and did, it’s that Cakara knows all of her friends’ parents would respond the same way. Her skin crawls and she shivers in her armor every time she remembers their words.  _ You should be grateful, or at least flattered, that he wants you. Not every woman gets a husband that desires her. _

“Do we need to go back?” Comes Vee’s voice in her ear.

“No. It’s just some memories,” Cakara replies through comms.

Vee silently signals that he understands, but it’s the Mandalorian hand sign, not the Echani one. They’re scouting for a back entrance to some slaver’s primary facility. 

Their employer is some shadowy Sith Cakara’s not yet had the misfortune of meeting, though many of his jobs are destroying slaving rings. Actually, now that she thinks about it, their Sith employer  _ has _ to be someone decent or Fox would just kill them himself. Were there decent Sith, though? Tiyaar never took jobs from Sith and she hadn’t run into one before joining them. The only Sith she’d ever met was… Was… The twins’ grandfather.

Cakara touches the left side of her helmet. Her cheek tingles, remembering the feel of the Force technique, even after so many years.  _ If Vasili hadn’t helped me then, I might’ve been… No. No, I would have run. I wouldn’t have let that monster touch me again. _

“Cakara, you don’t have to push yourself.  _ Buir _ ’s not going to kick you out.”

Vee’s words snap her out of her memories. She clears her throat. “I’m sorry. It’s not that. Just… Like I said. Just some memories.”

His hand is on her shoulder, the placement precise and intentional. He’s offering her support in  _ their _ way. “The scanner picked up the backdoor we were looking for. It’s time to get back. I know you’ve been through a lot.”

Cakara grabs his hand when he draws away. “Vee-”

“It takes a lot to make you leave your homeland.” He allows her to hold his fingers, even though he keeps his torso angled away from her. “No one told me what happened, but I can guess.”

“It’s not what you think,” Cakara says, releasing him.

Vee stands there with his arm held back for  _ just _ too long, just enough to show hesitation, before walking back towards their camp. He says nothing, but he hardly needs to, after that. He doesn’t believe her. He thinks he knows better. 

Resentment curls in Cakara’s chest as she follows after him. He’s still grieving and just trying to show her he understands, but when she left she swore she wouldn’t let anyone think they knew her feelings better than she did. “That’s your Sliver of the Moon, then? In the armory.”

“What could a  _ man _ possibly do to-”

“Your  _ family; _ you knew what I meant.”

Vee spins to face her and stalks up until their helmets are nearly touching. Their t-visors line up almost perfectly. It’s another Echani gesture - showing the perfect control that keeps them separated by such a small distance. When Vee speaks, his voice is as cold and hard as ice. “My  _ family _ is  _ Aliit Meshurok _ and you’d do well to remember it.  _ Cin’vhetin, _ Cakara. I’m Mandalorian; nothing else.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Cakara returns. She takes care to match his tone exactly and hold herself just as still.

“Then don’t say it.” 

“If it weren’t true, you wouldn’t hide behind your helmet at home with your  _ family _ ,” Cakara shoots back. She knows she’s going too far, but she doesn’t really care.

“Maybe I’m the one who doesn’t like what they see in the mirror,  _ Silver Sister _ .” With those words, Vee heads back to the camp at a jog.

The dismissal is a slap in the face, but it’s her heart that hurts. Something about scouting with Vee, moving together with a natural synchronicity Cakara hasn’t felt in years, it keeps bringing up bad memories. She remembers being on the opposite side of a similar confrontation. They’d been without armor, her and Vasili. Their bodies were nearly bare and honest in the way they only were around old friends.

Cakara hadn’t been her name then, back on Eshan. Vasili had been leaving, he and his twin Terenti. Vasili had wanted Cakara to join them. To keep her safe, he’d said. She hadn’t believed it at the time. She’d shouted, all fire instead of the cold with Vee. She’d shouted and spat in his face and then he’d been right.

_ Does that mean I’m right now? Skauris may as well have said the Sliver was his, but that’s not what he was angry about. Not really. Am I still… Who I was before? Is that what he’s saying? I’m just a stupid girl who thinks she can own whatever she touches? _

A heavy weight settles on Cakara’s heart with those thoughts. She feels like she’s just had a revelation and should be crying, but she’s always known those parts of her would linger. It’s not new that she can’t let go of the past so easily.

She’s not sure she wants to know what it really is.

\---

That night, sleep eludes Cakara. Zali had fallen asleep almost immediately, worn out from killing slavers and wrangling the children who didn’t know they weren’t about to be taken somewhere worse. Cakara hadn’t understood their resistance the first time they broke up a slaving operation. It still bothers her when she remembers or thinks about it, or doesn’t have something else distracting her. Things are bad on Eshan, but at least there isn’t slavery.

_ I hope, _ Cakara thinks, staring up at the tent ceiling. With some of the comments she’s heard since leaving… She shakes her head and rolls over onto her stomach, trying to clear her thoughts. She presses her face into the soft fabric of her pillowcase, but her mind unhelpfully just pulls out a memory of Vee gently cradling a small twi'lek child covered in bruises.

She’d stared at him, imagining a soft expression on perfect, even features. He’d hummed as he rocked the child, a Mandalorian tune, not an Echani one, but it had still stabbed Cakara in the heart. When she’d left Eshan, she’d been sure she’d never be able to look at an echani man with heat, let alone touch one, but everything about Vee just calls to her so strongly. She groans into her pillow and kicks her legs like a child.

Even when they’d been arguing, when he’d intimidated her in the Echani way, standing nose-to-nose, when he called her Silver Sister, a title he shouldn’t have known she- Cakara freezes for a second before violently shoving herself out of bed. She scrambles into her armor, heedless of how loud she is.

“‘Kara? Something wrong? We get a call?” Zali asks, her voice muffled by sleep and her blankets.

“He’s the same height as me!” Cakara says.

“What? Who?”

“Vee! He knows who I am!”

“Of course. He’s echani,” Zali says, but Cakara doesn’t pay her any mind, sprinting out of their tent and out into the camp proper. It’s the middle of the night, but there are still warriors up and about, though they move quietly between the lamps.

She stops outside of the tent Vee shares with Aran. She bashes her armored fist into the knocking panel. Echani men are  _ shorter _ than echani women. For Vee to be the same height, he has to be mixed and he knows her old title. There is no way he could be anyone other than... “Vee? Vee, we need to talk.”

After a minute that feels like an eternity, Aran pokes his head out. He squints at her in the dim lamplight and frowns. Like Aquila, he’s Fox and Hound’s biological child, so his eyes always seem to see too much. “Vee’s asleep. And even if he wasn’t, he doesn’t want to talk.”

Cakara leans in and whispers, “Where’s Terenti?”

“Kriff,” Aran says. He sighs and tugs on his braid. Just like having having the braids, the little tugs in moments of anxiety are so telling of his family. “Are you sure you want to open that door?”

“You know him better than I do at this point. Was it ever closed?” Cakara sighs and rubs her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Just wake him up. He and I  _ need _ to talk. I know why he would keep it hidden from me, but-”

“He’s not in. He’s out brooding on the cliffside.”

“Thanks, Aran,” Cakara says, not waiting to hear whatever warning he undoubtedly has. Forcing this conversation with Vee probably won’t end well, but she can’t simply not have it. The cliff’s edge isn’t far from the main camp, but Cakara’s panting and out of breath from anxiety when she reaches it. 

Vee is sitting with his legs hanging over the edge. He’s as still as a statue, looking out through his helmet at the darkness.

“Vee?”

“What now, Cakara?”

Hesitantly, she steps forward until she can press just the tips of her armored fingers against his shoulder. She swallows. “Where’s Teren?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day


	6. Lost

The question hangs in the air, sounding sick and rancid even to Cakara’s own ears. Nothing had ever separated the Sokolov twins on Eshan. Most of their arguments had been about _her._ Whether they should be friends with her, with her brother Rhion, whether they should tell her they were leaving at all.

At first, Vee doesn’t answer. He sighs and removes his helmet, setting it next to him on the dirt. His hair is long and still as white as the moonlight that shines on it. It’s braided as intricately as the rest of his adopted family's and it lends his image a nobility his blood always robbed from it. His face is lined with sharp, black tattoos that accentuate the human angle of his cheekbones and shape of his jaw. He’d been handsome on Eshan: exotic and proud of his mixed blood, but now he’s beautiful, as elegant and refined as anyone playing Sunshine could only wish to be.

“Dying. Maybe dead already. No way to know for sure,” Vee finally says, interrupting Cakara’s thoughts. He looks down at his hands in his lap.

Cakara sits next to him, inside his personal space, in the area designated for family and close friends. Her lip wants to tremble when he doesn’t move away. “I’m sorry. I should have asked earlier. I should’ve… Gone with you, back then. You were right. You just wanted to help me and I-”

“That was _Lise_ and _Vas,_ not you and me.” Their old names sound like curses on his lips. Vee turns his face away, still trying to hide who he is from her.

After a beat, Cakara lifts her right hand and traces the line of one of Vee’s tattoos. No one ever mentioned Vee having a brother, so he couldn’t have joined with Vee. “But Teren is still…”

“He became Sith. Like he always wanted. And was destroyed by his master, just as a Sith is always meant to be,” Vee says.  His voice is hard and angry and he clenches his jaw. “He wouldn’t listen. No one _listened._ ”

Cakara doesn’t flinch, even though the words feel like slaps. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry won’t take back what they did to you.”

“You-”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Vee says, finally leaning his face away from her touch.

It takes a moment for Cakara to move her hand, finally lowering it to his shoulder. She swallows. “What can I do?”

“It’s too late. Too late for Teren, too late for Vas, too late for Lise. It’s all in karking ashes.”

Cakara doesn’t know what to do. She’s never had to comfort anyone before, so she does the only thing she can think of and takes his wrist in her right hand. At first, she holds him with just her thumb and index finger, but before he has time to react, she wraps the rest of her fingers around it. He left Eshan when he was eighteen, but that was still old enough for him to know what she means. That grip on the wrist, just thumb and forefinger, it’s a proposition. The offer of a quick, sweaty tumble never to be spoken of again. Holding him as she is, that’s more: comfort, connection, closeness.

Vee doesn’t look at her, but neither does he pull away and reject her. He speaks again, and Cakara has no idea how she didn’t recognize his voice, even with the helmet’s distortion. It’s so close to her heart, so dear. “Are you out of your mind?”

A laugh forces its way past her control. She tilts her head down slightly, the silent ‘you’re right.’ “This is probably the first bad decision I’ve made that even has a chance of making things better.”

“It won’t change anything,” Vee says, his voice thin and fragile.

“It’ll make us feel better.”

Vee laughs, sounding on the verge of tears. “No it won’t.” But despite his words, he covers her hand with his and squeezes it around his left wrist. It’s not one of the set responses, but she’s holding him wrong, anyway. They should be facing each other, not sitting side by side. “We’re going to regret this.”

“Less than most decisions I’ve made,” Cakara says. She leans in and tilts her head until it’s touching his and it feels so _strange._ Vasili - Vee - is only a quarter human, but that accounts for his not being shorter than her and if the height isn’t enough their armor is still clunky and unwieldy compared to what they wore on Eshan. “We don’t have to. I just thought- We just-”

“I know,” Vee says. He gets to his feet and pulls Cakara up by her hold on his wrist. He sticks his right hand out to the side and his helmet snaps up off the ground with a jolt of Force. With confident strides, Vee leads her back to the camp.

Thoughts and memories swirl in Cakara’s mind. Years ago, in another life, Vee had been her first kiss. One day, his constant teasing with calling her _Moonbeam_ had been too much and she’d grabbed his hair, white with the slightest human tint of yellow, and called him sunkissed. He’d leaned in and murmured “Not yet,” before kissing her. They’d been hardly more than children then - and kissed like it - but Cakara had taken that first taste of him and thought nothing would separate them.

Least of all herself.

Cakara tugs on Vee’s arm to stop him. They’re in the training ground with thick rubber floors to eat most of the impact from armor. Only the moon and dim lamps from the camp light the low fencing and heavy bronzium chests. She pulls on his arm until he turns his eyes, just the lightest shade of blue, on her. “Vee, I’m sorry-”

“I don’t want her apology.”

Tears welled in Cakara’s eyes and she hated them, hated the weakness and loss of control they signalled. She blinked to hold them in and shook her head. “You’re not Vasili, but you’re Sunshine. No, don’t interrupt me. Again. You’re Sunshine _again_ and I can’t pretend you’re not.”

Vee removes his gauntlets and drops them at their feet. With agonizing slowness, he reaches out and brushes her cheek, forcing the tears out. “That’s not how we say it.”

“Isn’t it? _Gar’darasuum._ That’s Sunshine.”

With deliberate motions, Vee removes Cakara’s gauntlets and then moves to her vambraces. His face is close to hers, so close that her tears wet his cheek. “Sunshine dies.”

Returning the favor, Cakara starts stripping Vee out of his own armor. When he’s pulling off his cuirass and she’s sure her voice won’t waver, Cakara says, “He dies and then she changes the heavens to make a place where they could be together.”

Vee pulls away, but he brushes his palm from her sternum to her navel. It’s the Echani motion to disrobe and Cakara’s never been on the receiving end before; she had always been the one in charge. He doesn’t watch to see if she complies, instead he walks over to the equipment chests. He punches a code into the lock and then opens a bottom section Cakara had never even known was separate.

She’s so surprised by the _blanket_ he pulls out that Cakara doesn’t even finish removing her armor before he’s laid it out and turned back to her.

“Did you… Change your mind?” Vee asks, the trepidation so clear in the angle of his mouth and the tilt of his eyebrows.

“No. Just… Blankets?”

Vee turns his face, hides the joy on his face when he laughs. He waves around them. “They’re easier to sterilize than the mats. We’re hardly the first couple to make bad decisions under moonlight.”

Cakara fists the thick fabric of his _kute._ “You can’t _phrase_ it that way.”

Vee presses his mouth to hers and it’s just as hot and sweet as she remembers. His hands feel hot enough to burn as he first holds her cheeks and then moves his arms until they’re pressed together. They’re both so overwhelmed with rushing emotions and so drowned in their shared past that they fumble to remove their remaining armor. They fall to the blanket with tangled legs scorching hands.

By the time Vee is kissing his way up her neck, Cakara’s completely forgotten what she said.

“Would you rather not be on top, then?” Vee asks. His breath is as hot on her ear as his words.

Cakara can only make a needy sound in the back of her throat as she pulls his mouth back against hers. The air temperature drops and thunder crashes in the distance, but neither has the slightest inclination to pull away. Instead, they move together with hot exchanges that have their same synchronicity that they share in battle.

When the swirling emotions bring tears back to Cakara’s eyes, Vee kisses them away and presses her back into the thin blanket. “That wasn’t a no.”

With a growl, Cakara shoves him off of her and onto _his_ back. “That’s enough out of you, Sunshine.”

He grins at her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Gar’darasuum_ \- For eternity, roughly.  
>  _kute_ \- underarmor


	7. Distance

“It’s still raining,” Vee says.

Their faces are pressed close together and the blanket underneath them is damp, though Cakara can’t feel any raindrops. She reluctantly looks away from his eyes, so bright even at night, and up to the sky. Instead of the clear view of the night sky that she expects, Cakara is met with a strange shimmering… something.  She stretches her hand through it and feels cold raindrops on her hand.

She turns to Vee, but he’s smiling at her and laughing silently. With both hands, she pushes herself into a sitting position. Her head and shoulders break through the Force barrier with ease. Raindrops lands her face and catch in her eyelashes and Cakara can only laugh. Somewhat incredulous, she looks down at Vee, just beams up at her. “Did you hold this up the whole time?”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised. I’m good at what I do.”

Cakara snorts. “Don’t spoil it now.”

Vee presses his hand against her lower back and it’s so warm it sears her skin. “We knew we’d regret this.”

Before he can pull away, Cakara snaps her hand out and grabs hold of his wrist. She holds onto him with all of her fingers, just as she had on the cliffside.

The crease between his eyebrows moves up and down and the corners of his mouth twitch as he goes through a bevy of emotions. “I’m not going to hold you to-”

“I’m going to _hold_ you, Vee. Haven’t we run away enough?” Cakara brushes the wet fringe of her hair off her forehead and lets the sad frown pull and shift the shape of her face.

The rain starts falling harder, with loud splats and plops. Vee pushes himself up and presses his forehead into her temple. He says nothing before rising to his feet. With gratuitous hand gestures and Force use, Vee summons his armor into his hands before pulling it on. The pieces are wet, inside and out and squelch as they’re donned.

Cakara does the same, flinching at the gross feeling of the soaked padding. Nouj is going to shout at both of them if the cleaning system on their armor racks can’t dry them out fast enough to prevent mould. She catches Vee’s hand before he can walk back to his tent with the soaking blanket. “Please don’t hide, Vee.”

Vee meets her eyes for just a moment before shaking his head and pulling away.

As he walks away, Cakara feels an awful sense of finality settle over her. His expression, posture, the _exact_ angle he shook his head are all identical to when he walked away after she spat in his face, some ten years before. The same, helpless desperation grips her heart and she wants to scream and cry. She’s fifteen again, watching her best friend leave her, probably for good, this time. And so much worse because he’ll be physically within arm’s reach, but-

“Wait,” Cakara says. When Vee stops and looks at her over her shoulder, she loses all of her words. There’s too much she wants to say; everything all at once fights to get out first, but in the end all she can say is, “Sunshine.”

Vee faces forward and reaches back for his braid. He wrings it out, even though the rain is still pounding down on both of them. Finally, he drops his hands. He speaks and his voice is emotionless. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning for practice.”

Cakara clenches her jaw to hold in a sob. She’s about to head back to her tent when Vee gives her the Mandalorian hand signal for ‘move forward.’

“Don’t be late, Moonbeam.”

\---

The next morning, after not a single wink of sleep, Cakara sits with her back pressed against Vee’s. He’s using the Force to try to properly dry out their armor before Nouj skins both of them while she adjusts and tunes their vibroswords. His braid of braids rests on her shoulder and Cakara wishes they were sitting in the middle of the _yaim_ for everyone to see. But a single, ill-advised kriff isn’t enough for Vee to stop hating his appearance.

Cakara understands. Her own tattoos and sky blue hair are proof enough, but she still wants everyone to see his beauty, see them together like the pair they always should have been. For what feels like the first time since Vasili left Eshan, she can relax. She hums the overture from The Seven Sisters.

Unfortunately, it makes Vee tense against her and the quiet dribble and drip of water stops as he stops the Force technique. “Cakara…”

“Right. I’m sorry. _Cin’vhetin._ ”

“No. I- I heard about Rhion. I’m sorry.” Vee reaches back and squeezes her arm before going back to drying out their gear. His back remains stiff for a few moments before he relaxes against her, again.

“Thank you. He was- I just- I didn’t-” Cakara presses her lips together. Her eyes hurt, so badly do they want to let the tears out. “I should have left for him.”

“You’re not responsible for your older brother. We asked him to come separately. He made his own choice to stay and protect you. And- No, don’t start. Don’t say things would have been better if you’d come. I would have joined the Sith to support you both and then Teren and I would both be dead.”

Cakara tilts her head back until their ears are touching. “He never said it, but I knew he was mad at me for how I rejected you.”

“Elisabet rejected Vasili. We’re not them. Not anymore. They helped make us what we are now, but we can’t let them ride on our backs for the rest of our lives,” Vee says. It’s not admonishment, this time. He’s reminding himself as much as he’s reminding her.

They sit together in near silence, pressed warmly together. It feels as intimate as the night before, only with their hearts bared instead of their skin. Terenti had been the center of Vasili’s life, when Lise knew him. And Lise had been the focus of Rhion’s. Now they’re two sundered siblings, living new lives with a new family and traditions that would have horrified their younger selves. Cakara tugs on his braid once and then goes back to their weapons.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Cin’vhetin_ \- Your past doesn't matter.


	8. Connections

Cakara flinches the moment she leaves her ship’s gangway. There’s something heavy and _wrong_ in the air. Aran reaches out and touches her shoulder, his expression is tight with concern, but before he can ask what’s wrong, the unnatural crackle of Force lightning overpowers the regular camp noises. They share surprised glances before sprinting off towards the sound.

While Cakara could easily outspeed her partner, she doesn’t want to reach the _dar’jetii_ alone. She can’t imagine how a Forcer found the _yaim,_ let alone got close enough to start any kind of attack with Fox in residence, but maybe he’s out on a mission like Cakara had been. Even though no one in the camp seems alarmed or worried, Cakara and Aran don’t slow as they race through their milling family.

They make it through the entire camp and come out on the opposite end where the training grounds are sectioned off. Aran crashes bodily into Ty’lk while Cakara manages to contort her body to slip between Skauris and Morathis as she skids to a halt.

Vee and Aquila are exchanging impossibly quick strikes with vibroswords. Aquila’s helmet is off; her intricately braided, auburn hair flys with her fierce movements. Her mouth is locked in a snarl and she _howls_ as she launches each strike at Vee. She looks like nothing so much as an enraged animal denied her rightfully earned kill.

“What the _fuck_?” Aran shouts.

Morathis raises an eyebrow and glances at his son for a moment before turning back to the fight. “Aky learned the hard way you shouldn’t kriff the person you’re supposed to be bodyguarding.” Without looking, Morathis raises a hand and catches the rock thrown at the back of his head with an angry burst of Force from Aquila in the ring.

Cakara isn’t sure what part of the entire… debacle surprises her more. Aquila venting her deadly anger at Vee, the fact that she kriffed her employer, Morathis’s dry assessment of the situation, the fact that she attacked her father for his comment or the fact that he clearly expected the projectile he caught. She looks over at Aran, but now that he knows the story, he’s similarly bored by his sister’s response.

Despite the incredible power and control on display, only one fifth of the clan, or even less, is out watching. There was a drinking contest last week that had a bigger audience. Cakara rubs the back of her neck and watches the… spar uneasily. Aquila’s movements all have an edge of deadly intent that makes Cakara worry for Vee. What they have is new, fragile and mostly unformed. She has no idea what she’ll feel or do if he’s seriously injured.

Vee has an edge from being mostly echani, but with Fox and Hound for biological parents, Aquila isn’t far behind on a physical level. Cakara doesn’t know who’s stronger in terms in Force abilities, but it must be Vee with how well he holds his ground against her assault. His attacks have the clinical precision he uses for practice matches despite Aquila’s overwhelming fury.

“Well, I’m going to unpack and clean up. When she’s done with her tantrum, let her know I’ll be ready with the _tihaar_ ,” Aran says.

“I’ll be sure she knows,” Morathis replies. He pats his son’s shoulder, “Welcome home. Don’t let your sister keep you up all night, we’ve a meeting about the Darth Rencarn business tomorrow.”

Darth Rencarn isn’t a name Cakara is familiar with, but Aran doesn’t say anything else about the affair before leaving. No one else mentions it, either, their attention focused on the clashing blades and Force abilities. She holds back and sigh and watches them herself.

\---

With Aran out commiserating with his blood sister, Cakara joins Vee in his tent. He’s laid face down on the floor while she kneels next to him and massages out his muscles. He’d eventually beaten Aquila into the dirt, but his armor didn’t absorb impact the way hers did and his white skin is blossoming red with fresh bruises. Cakara’s nearly embarrassed by how much she enjoys touching Vee. As much as Mandalorian life suits her better than an Echani one ever did, she’s missed _touching._

“You’re going to be black and blue tomorrow,” Cakara says. She feels stupid for wanting it, but she’s more than half-tempted to rub her cheek against his shoulder just to feel close.

“I’ll do a healing trance before I sleep,” Vee says. His voice has a warm, contented undertone that Cakara’s heart flutter… figuratively.

“I was impressed that you held your own against Aky. Her Force powers are… Well. I wouldn’t have liked to have gone against her, even at the height of my Sisters’ training.” Cakara slowly works her way down his back, relaxing the muscles. She’s pressed against him as much as she can be and it feels like _home_ without any of the awful memories.

“I… Have a way of countering her,” Vee says. He tenses when he hesitates, glances at her over his shoulder before putting his face back down.

Cakara feels the emotional pull on the muscles in her face, but doesn’t let them move. She understands. She does. She can’t be sad that he doesn’t trust her. “It’s still impressive,” she says. She changes the subject before either of them can dwell on what he’s not telling her. “What can you tell me about this operation with Darth Rencarn?”

“Against would be more accurate. As for what I can tell you… It’s a mess. A terrible, horrible mess and Aky is going to be furious with me next,” Vee says. He groans into his pillow, but whether it’s from Aky’s future anger or Cakara finally loosening the knot in his lower back isn’t clear.

Cakara tugs off his trousers and starts working on his legs. She’d forgotten how much she liked just… feeling muscles and thinking about how they worked and she feels relaxed just from working on him. “Why is Aky going to be mad at _you_?”

“Moon in the sky, where to start? She doesn’t know her former client and lover is Lord Aucht’s son. My… talents are outside of Fox’s specialty, so he had to train me. I spent a lot of time at his estate, met both children… I suppose Malish was too paranoid to ever mention who his father is.”

“And Aucht is going to be helping us with the operation?” Cakara asks. She lifts his leg so she can work on his ankle without moving too far down for casual conversation.

“Yes,” Vee says, though his voice is suddenly hard. “Rencarn has… poisoned Aucht’s daughter. The only cure is to kill him.”

“So are we just helping Aucht kill a Darth? That seems pretty straightforward.” Though Cakara’s massage is clinical and professional, just being next to him and _touching_ at all has her blood near-boiling in her veins. She hadn’t realized how touch-starved she’d been.

Vee pulls his leg out of her grasp and rolls over. As he sits up, he says, “It’s a mess, Clan Cerar’s tied up with Rencarn, too, but I can’t talk about that anymore.” With a helpless sound he could have controlled if he’d wanted to, Vee closes the distance between them and kisses her. He presses as much of his body against her as he can, just as desperate for _touch_ as she is, not matter how awkward their situation.

Cakara holds his face in both hands and gently pushes him away to break their kiss. “I didn’t come here for this, Vee.”

Vee leans back in, brushing their cheeks together. “Do you want to stop?”

“No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _yaim_ \- clan home/camp


	9. Daggers

Vee’s tent is warm and quiet. Cakara is curled up half on him, half next to him in his bed. She’s never spent the night in someone else’s bed before. All of her liaisons back on Eshan had been simple, empty things for relaxation and fun. She’d never wanted to keep their hearts beating in sync, never cared if they’d rest well once she’d had her fill. She cares more about Vee than Lise ever did for Vasili. Her younger self had wanted to _own_ Vasili, like some kind of pretty trophy as a proof of conquest.

Now, she knows better. Cakara left Lise and her arrogant, self-importance behind. She just wants to live in the warmth that radiates off of Vee like a star. Her Sunshine.

He glows white for a short time, a healing trance, he’d said. In no time at all, he’s all white skin cleared of bruises. His Force abilities are still as startlingly magical as they had been at fourteen. Part of her wonders just what he’s capable of. But that’s a question for another time.

Cakara nuzzles her face against his. “Will you tell me about Nauur?”

He doesn’t flinch under her at the question; Vee sighs and covers his eyes with one hand though they’re already laying in the dark. “I suppose we were going to have to talk of her eventually.”

“I know that… Everything recent is because of Teren, but Zali kept trying to sell me a line about Nauur, so there must have been something there. She’s not that bad of a liar and if we are going to...” Cakara lets it trail off. She doesn’t know what they’re going to do. For all that she calls him Sunshine, Cakara’s not sure if they really could have the kind of future their life would suggest.

Vee sighs again with a heave of his chest, an obviously human affectation. “She’s not. Nauur and I… We met on a hunt. The connection was immediate. Natural leaders, the same sense of humor, sharp wit…” He plays with the rough ends of Cakara’s dyed hair. “But she flinched when I took my helmet off. I should have left then.”

Cakara says nothing, just nuzzles her face into his _kute_ as if that could help.

“She said it was just surprise. Her family’s been _mando’ade_ for as long as they can remember. I wanted to believe her, so I did. I’d never had sex before. I didn’t know if I could trust what I thought I saw in her. Now, though-” Vee cuts himself off and tightens his arm around Cakara’s back. “The romance was slow by Mandalorian standards. Not because of her. With our secrets, we have to be careful who we let in.

“But I loved her. Trusted her. I went to tell her about my gift. The last thing before we could marry… I didn’t- How do you confess that? I said that I wanted a future, but that there were considerations, especially for children, because of who and what I am. She… I couldn’t even finish talking. She said, ‘Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t planning on carrying any albino mongrels anyway.’”

Cakara’s heart seizes in her chest as the words hang in the air. Vee’s tone is so wistful, so full of pain and longing, that she aches for him. She shifts up and tilts his head until they’re looking each other in the eye. In the darkness, his eyes look as white as hers. “That’s not who we are. _Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaas'la_.”

Vee jerks away from her and covers his eyes again. “Don’t _you_ say that to me.”

“And why not me?” Cakara asks. She pushes herself up to look down at him. “I know just how much you left behind.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why are you acting like a child?”

Vee sits up as well and leans in with the familiar Echani intimidation. “Three years and the only one you take off your armor for is _me?_ Casual kriffs aren’t as common as I’m sure you would have liked, but everyone knew about the echani in Tiyaar. You had no shortage of choices.”

Cakara grabs his shoulder, digging her fingernails into his skin. She holds him close and violent in a way that lacks all Echani finesse. “You weren’t _there._ No one was there when Matriarch Desia’s brat decided Lise didn’t mean ‘no.’ They _laughed_ at her, told her she should be flattered. I might have fallen for Vee in a vacuum, but if he wasn’t you, we wouldn’t be here.”

Vee closes his eyes and goes limp in her hold. His expression is guilty, but he still opens his mouth, he still says, “Vasili told her it would happen.”

“And she didn’t listen and now I’m paying the consequences. Are we done or is this how it’s going to be? Cutting each other with daggers from the past? We’ve lost enough and you know perfectly well you’ve never been Echani to me.”

Vee opens his eyes and reaches up to trace one of the tattooed lines on her cheek. “No, I never was. If I had been-”

“We’d both be stuck there, miserable, if together. Don’t make _us_ and happiness mutually exclusive,” Cakara says. She releases her hold on him and lets heavy breaths rattle in her chest. Carefully, she enunciates each word as she says, “I am sorry, Vasili.”

Vee keeps his hand on her cheek, stares into her eyes for a long time, but doesn’t deny her apology the way he did before. “ _Ni ceta, Ca’kara_ ,” he says.

Relief shoots through her and Cakara lets herself crumple against him. They reach out together, twist up their arms and legs and finally settle with their necks bent and foreheads pressed together. Neither of them cries, but they can feel each others’ pulse everywhere they’re touching and their breathing is in perfect sync. They stay like that, awake, for an hour, before finally drifting off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaas'la._ \- It doesn't matter who your parents were, only the parent you'll be. Often used to mean "Blood doesn't matter."
> 
>  _Ni ceta_ \- I apologize.


	10. Woven

“So Aucht’s daughter is tied up in it, fine. _Dar’jetii_ kark. But how is Clan Cerar tangled in this mess?” Cakara asks. She brushes her hair out of her eyes and feels unsettled by how unfamiliar the feeling of her own skin is. It’s not that she _always_ has her armor on, but she’s become acclimated to the rough metal of her gauntlet scraping her forehead. Cakara’s in the thinnest leatheris guards the clan has, the closest thing she could find to proper Echani armor. _Alor_ had wanted the others to practice against her particular training before they challenged Rencarn.

And no one would ask Vee to get out of his armor.

Vee takes her hand, thumb in her palm and index finger on the back of her hand. It means _let me_ and he brushes her hair behind her ears so gently that the metal feels as soft as a kiss on her skin. He’s wearing his helmet, but Cakara can feel his eyes through the t-visor. “Cerar’s _alor_ ’s blood-son is a Forcer.”

“Galaar? That can’t be right. He’s terrified of the Force,” Cakara says.

“He has a twin. Only one of them has it… Supposedly. Fox thinks it’s more complicated than that.” Vee turns his left hand over, wiggling his thumb: it won’t be good.

“Isn’t it always?”

Over Cakara’s shoulder, their clanmates are warming up with casual spars, though Lelle and a few others keep glancing at Cakara, curious to see how she fights without armor. Cakara nods at Vee and touches his elbow with her palm and lets his hand brush against her as she turns away. Manipulating the individual muscles in her lips isn’t easy, but people are always impressed by the piercing whistle she can bellow without sticking her fingers in her mouth. When everyone is looking at her, Cakara pulls Skauris’ training saber off her belt.

“As far as our intelligence has gleaned, Rencarn doesn’t have any Echani on staff, but both of his apprentices are battlemasters. One of them uses a style called _tra’kata._ Only lightsabers and special Echani blades can be used for the technique, as it requires the blades to disappear mid-swing so that they don’t make contact.”

Her hand wants to tremble as it clasps around the hilt of the Arlos Sliver of the Moon. It’s Vee’s ancestral blade, but the balance suits _her_ , suits a perfect specimen of the Echani hierarchy. She knows the theory behind making the ceremonial blade retract, but after only a few hours of practice with the real thing, she’s nervous. The fake lightsaber that uses a laserlight and ink jet in place of a blade should be able to compensate for any clumsy movements, but it isn’t about pride. She’s trying to teach her clan siblings how to survive against masters.

It’s about protecting what matters most.

The quiet click-snickt of Vee’s scaled armor moving calms her rattling nerves. “Right then. Kyra first.”

Kyra is the best ‘normal’ melee fighter after Hound. The lack of physiological or Force advantages doesn’t leave her far behind, though. The plasma edge of her vibroblade whines as it makes sharp contact with the Sliver of the Moon, but the sound lasts only an instant before Kyra leaps back. The false lightsaber shoots of a jet of ink where she’d just been standing. Cakara rushes Kyra down and every step kicks up a perfectly measured burst of sand behind her.

Rencarn’s base won’t be scoured with boot impressions, but blaster and rifle strikes will score the floor and her _vod_ need to be ready to fight on uneven ground. It’s silly; they’re all professionals. They’ve practiced and fought on torn ground, but Cakara can’t help herself from making every inch count. She knows Kyra’s habits and tags her with an overhead slash. Despite the hit, Kyra launches her usual counter strike at Cakara’s belly. It doesn’t come close, not when the leatheris armor lets Cakara arch back and away from the blade. She returns with a kick that doesn’t make contact, but from a _dar’jetii_ it wouldn’t need to.

“You’re down, Kyra,” Vee says. He touches her shoulder and ignores the angry lines of her arms and torso. He gestures to the waiting warriors. “Next up; let’s go.”

For hours, Cakara fights her way through her clan brothers. She’s a sweating mess with sand stuck to the wetness, but she hasn’t taken a hit. Vee touches the center of her back, a silent ‘wait’ when he dismisses the others. When they’re alone, he pulls her back tight to his chest.

“Closer,” he murmurs in her ear. Distorted as his voice is by his helmet, it still makes her blood sing. “On my sabatons.” Vee holds their arms inline and touches his t-visor to the back of her head. Without warning, his Force floods over her skin and into her muscles.

She gasps and tilts her head back, clutching at his wrists so she doesn’t fall. “Vee?”

“Healing trance.”

Her breath hitches in her chest and she closes her eyes. It feels like his soul is pressed against hers, enveloping, soothing protecting. Pulse racing and breathing shallow, she sinks into the sensation. When it ends, her hands should be stiff and sore from clenching for so long, but they’re soft and languid. A heavy lassitude sits in her chest. Cakara takes several breaths before stepping down onto the sand. She can’t look at him. “We have to go to a briefing!”

Vee removes his helmet and chuckles next to her ear. He nuzzles the back of her neck and presses a kiss under her chin. “That’s a problem? I thought you had perfect control.”

“I will crack you open like a shaclaw and flay you with your own Sliver of the Moon.”

He laughs again and turns her around. Their lips meet for only a second before they’re drinking each other in. Vee pulls away to stare into her eyes. He brushes sand and hair off her cheek. He’s smiling with every muscle in his face. “ _Ni kar'taylir darasuum,_ ” he says. But just as she’s about to collapse boneless against him, he adds, “Moonbeam.”

A laugh jumps out of Cakara’s chest and she smacks his shoulder. “You absolute _brat_. Why do I put up with you?”

He kisses her again. “You love the taste of Sunshine.”

With a groan, she shoves him away. “Oh shut up and put your helmet on. I’m going to tell your parents what you did.”

“Do that and _buir_ will start planning a wedding.”

“Maybe that’s what I want.”


	11. Mirrors

It is the silence that wakes Cakara. In so few days, she’d become addicted to the sound of Vee’s heart. To the feel of his pulse against her skin. His empty spot isn’t warm and their blanket was tucked tight around her until she flailed around. They’re leaving for the Rencarn operation in a few hours; she’s not surprised he left before her. Hound plans to make him _alor_ after her; he has extra duties to see to. She wastes time stretching individual muscle groups to pretend she’s not lingering in the smell from his pillow, but in the end she gets up.

On the armor rack, her right gauntlet and vambrace are missing. She stares at the rack, then looks around the tent. Aran’s bed is cleaned and folded for transport, sitting on top of his trunk of personal effects. He’s gone ahead to scout Rencarn’s base. He’ll move into his new permanent bunk when everyone returns. Maybe taking the place of a fallen brother.

Four years isn’t long enough for Cakara to be used to the blithe acceptance of death. Even among the Silver Sisters… Yes, they fought Thryssians and other invaders, but they always won. Came back scarred, but alive. Funerals on Eshan are quiet, solemn affairs with the family in the deepest mourning blue. Mandalorians don’t have funerals. Their dead live on, eternally. Marching far away. They celebrate victories and call out the names of their lost to the stars and their ancestors. Sometimes ‘points’ are involved, but Cakara still doesn’t know what that means.

She sighs.

The tent is untouched; the same as it was when they fell asleep in each others’ arms. Pranks never involve the armor, so Vee must have the missing pieces. Is he making repairs? Cakara hadn’t noticed any cracks or flaws, but there’s an itch in the back of her mind that she might have missed something. The rest of her armor fits on without issue, though she inspects every piece and checks every electrical system. Full working order. She bites her bottom lip, a human affectation she copied from Tzali. It feels good to display her feelings. She bites her lip and makes their bed, packs her op bag and doesn’t release it until she’s leaving the tent.

“I’d go around the East side, if I were you,” Skauris says. His black and red armor is splattered with garish, yellow paint. Cakara loves it.

“What’s going on?”

“Aquila is sparking and it’s too close to show time for her to vent it properly.” Skauris laughs. “She’s so bright; I love her.”

Cakara lets her mouth match his smile. “Definitely spirited. I’ll like her more when she stops pounding me into the sand.”

Skauris winks and heads off towards the armory. Over his shoulder he calls, “Good luck with that one!”

Still smiling, Cakara skirts around the East side of the camp to the staging ground. At an intersection, she and Vee only miss collision by blood-enhanced dodges. He waves to her with her gauntlet. “Good morning.”

Cakara reaches for it, but Vee jerks it back. She puts her hands on her hips and gives him a pout so exaggerated he laughs. “Good morning. Give it.”

“Not yet. I have something else for you.” Vee removes his helmet and Cakara’s heart stutters in her chest because they’re in the middle of the camp. Anyone could walk by and see. Vee never- She dashes the thoughts because he’s holding out a small, wrapped parcel.

The plain, brown paper tears easily, revealing- Cakara can’t control the gasp or the way it chokes her. There’s nothing wrong with her armor. Vee’s was planning to give her… this. It’s a bracelet made of a silver-composite. The fat, flat links are engraved with the phases of the moon and music notes. She presses the full moon and the overture for The Seven Sisters plays. She can’t speak, so she just looks into Vee’s eyes: white with the slightest hint of blue.

Without looking away, he takes her hand and clasps the bracelet around her bare wrist. “You can cry, _cyare_. You can show your grief with your body here.”

With a sob, Cakara throws her arms around him. “I miss him, Vee. Rhion deserved so much better. If I had just-”

“Shh, it’s not your fault. Be sad, but not cruel to yourself.”

Cakara presses their foreheads together. “How did you get this?”

“I hired someone to go to Eshan. I couldn’t remember the name of Rhion’s company, so I had them just take holos of every opera house until they found the right one.”

“My parents destroyed-”

“I know. The recordings were harder to find, but I have a friend in negotiations for a copy right now.” He puts his hands on her face and wipes the tears away. “You deserved more than just memories of your brother.”

“Thank you. _Ori’vor’e._ ” Cakara presses their cheeks together and then pulls away to admire the bracelet. She presses the full moon again and holds it to her ear, closing her eyes to remember the sound of her brother’s voice. She swallows the sadness and dries her face. Vee hands her the rest of her armor and she locks it in place, protecting the bracelet. “This means…”

“I know.” He touches the back of her elbow. Affection, respect and… I’ll be alright, even though his brother is gone, too.

She responds with another forehead touch, a soft intimacy for people covered in hard metal.

“We should get going and start loading before _alor_ and Fox decide we should let Aquila vent after all.” Vee takes two steps toward the staging ground, but stops when he realizes Cakara isn’t following. “Do you need…?” He touched the tips of his thumbs and ring fingers together: time.

Cakara shakes her head and then touches the helmet clipped onto her belt.

Vee takes a deep breath and lets his chest visibly expand. In the direct sunlight, the hint of yellow in his hair looks like the softest blond. “Not… Today. Maybe not anymore. I… I don’t want to hate the part of me that’s also a part of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Check out my tumblr for the next part of this story: [Bloodlines](https://tk-duveraun.tumblr.com/tagged/bloodlines-fic). (Also known as Aquila and Malish Need to Fucking Talk)


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